


A Little Something Sweet

by ColourMyGalaxies



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair, Coffee Shops, Fluff, Hipster Ishimaru, M/M, Wingman Chihiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-23 22:41:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4895050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColourMyGalaxies/pseuds/ColourMyGalaxies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hipster!AU</p><p>People are often put off by Ishimaru Kiyotaka's stereotypical hipster-like appearance and strict values and morals. However, despite all unlikeliness, the socially awkward and friendless student may have a secret admirer in the coffee shop he frequents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Little Something Sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted Hipster Ishimaru tbh #noshame  
> So in this fic Kiyotaka has on a black beanie, black-rimmed glasses, one of those hooded plaid jackets (grey hood, red plaid, you know the drill), black leather fingerless gloves, grey acid wash skinny jeans, and black mid-calf combat boots (straying away from the standard knee-highs). His jewelry includes an eyebrow piercing on his right eyebrow, two cartilage piercings in his left ear, a standard lobe and industrial in his right ear, and a tongue piercing. He doesn't have tattoos. Yet. c;

A brass bell chimed melodiously as Ishimaru Kiyotaka pushed the coffee shop door open. He paused at the doorway to scan the menu, then marched to the baristas' counter. In two minutes' time, he was warming his hands on a cup a medium hazelnut latte at a table near the front of the café. He took a moment to glance down at the chocolate syrup calligraphy on the dollop of whipped cream resting daintily on his coffee. Ishimaru was not the type of man to regularly indulge in wasteful luxuries such as extra-costing latte art, but he had decided to treat himself for once, for he wanted a little something sweet today. Perhaps his fatigue and rising stress levels due to university were the reason for his sudden cravings. That would explain the sugar and the chocolate. He took a sip of the latte and smacked his lips in delight, taking care to lick the frothy cream off of his lip ring. 

Ishimaru loved this particular coffee shop. In addition to having the best coffee he had ever tasted, the shop was relatively obscure, so the place was never too crowded nor was it ever too loud for his liking. The café had the perfect atmosphere for studying, leisurely reading a book, or simply for going on his phone (the shop had a very speedy internet connection for that very purpose). Furthermore, something about coffee shop ambiance was pleasing to Ishimaru. The silent sounds of people conversing, the whirring of the coffee machines, the clinking of spoons against cups and cups against saucers, and the piano music playing softly in the background all intertwined together to produce a soothing soundtrack that was music to Ishimaru's pierced ears. With all of these positive elements, it was no wonder that Ishimaru found himself sitting at the same table at the same cafe every chance he got, which was nearly everyday.

The brass bell chimed once more as the door of the coffee shop swiftly swung open, followed by the sound of boisterous laughter. Ishimaru turned around to eye the three men who had just entered and pushed his thick black-rimmed glasses farther up on the bridge of his nose to get a better look. He immediately recognized the group of customers as regulars at this café.

"Fuck, man, you had to be there!" The man on the very right of the group chortled. "So the prof's sick, right? So we got a sub yesterday for class and you know what she fuckin' said to Chihiro when he walked into the room?" The man squeaked in a falsetto, _"Um, what are you doing here, miss? There aren't any females in this class."_

The trio resumed howling with laughter as they made their way to the table directly in front of Ishimaru's. 

The man on the very left, the shortest one, continued between fits of giggles, "You should have seen her  _face_ when I informed her I was a boy! It legit looked like this." The man, who Ishimaru presumed to be Chihiro, stretched his mouth into the largest "O" shape he could and widened his hazel eyes until they were nearly bulging out of their sockets. The last man, who was standing between Chihiro and the man with the impressive falsetto, cackled and shaked uncontrollably - hunched over in his seat to clutch his pained stomach - until he laughed himself to tears.

Ishimaru eyed the man. He was extremely tall, probably well over 6', and towered over his two shorter friends. The sides and back of his hair were shaved and black while the mop of hair on the top of his head was long, shaggy, and chestnut brown. Ishimaru felt envious of him. Everytime the trio came to the café, they were smiling, having fun, and enjoying each other's company, and it was obvious that it was all thanks to the tallest man. From eavesdropping on their talks, Ishimaru had learned that the man was the one who started nearly every one of their conversations. In fact, he was the reason the three of them were such close friends with each other in the first place. This man was easygoing and sociable, the type of guy that everyone flocked to, that everyone wanted to be around, while Ishimaru was the loner whose only contact on his phone was his father. The tall man gave off a warm and welcoming aura of friendliness that Ishimaru lacked. This man was the person, no, _everything_  that Ishimaru wanted to be, and he found himself glancing at the man in longing quite often.

In contrast, friendship was a concept that was undoubtedly foreign to Ishimaru. Up until he graduated high school, he was a socially inept and, apparently, annoying disciplinary committee chairman. He was the nerdy honours student that seemingly did nothing other than study and berate unfortunate victims for breaking the rules or disrupting the order. It wasn't a surprise that nobody liked him back then. To make matters worse, even as a 21-year old university student, he still retained all the morals and values he had as a minor. He heard the curses under people's breaths when he informed them that they were violating a campus rule. He caught the flashes of anger on people's faces when he scolded them for skipping lectures or failing to study and work hard. Dawn and dusk, he endured the threats, the middle fingers, and the degrading gossip. Morning and night, past and present, Ishimaru was laughed at, told to fuck off, and yelled at just for being himself. 

Suddenly, the tall man shot out of his seat with such force that the chair clattered noisily to the ground. Shocked, Ishimaru stared up at the now-standing man with wide eyes. The man slowly turned his head, resulting in the two of them making eye contact. In the brief second in which they locked eyes, Ishimaru felt a sense of opia; an ambiguous intensity from looking deeply into the man's lilac eyes. In that brief second, the eye contact felt simultaneously invasive and... vulnerable, and he could swear that there was a pulsing of electricity between them. The man seemed to realize that they were staring at each other. He tensed and his face scrunched up in embarrassment as a pink flush dusted his tan face. Abruptly, he spun around to snarl at his two friends, who were guffawing again, this time at their friend's humiliation. The man with the good falsetto picked up the chair from the floor while Chihiro gently tugged on the man's arm to get him to sit down again. As the man plunked back down onto his seat, Ishimaru placed his hands around his (now cold) cup of coffee, not believing the remark that had just crossed his mind. Just now, what did he just think? Just now, he had thought the man looked-

Cute?

Yes, he realized with horror, he had definitely thought the man acted cute just now. ~~Adorable, even~~. No! How rude! This innocent man only came to the coffee shop to spend time with his friends, but Ishimaru was ogling all over him! How awful! How despicable! He hurriedly rose to get another coffee, if only to rinse the bitter taste of disgust out of his mouth.

He ordered another sweet drink, a green tea latte to be exact, and immersed himself in pleasant coffee shop ambiance once more. When he received his coffee, he smiled in amusement at his cup, for the baristas had misspelled his name as "Ichimura." He put a lid onto his cup and took a sip as he walked back to his table. He stopped in his tracks two steps later, almost spitting out the sip he had just taken, for the tall man was sitting at his table.

Ishimaru's eyes darted over to the table the man had originally been sitting at only to find that it was occupied by some family he had never seen before. The man's two friends were nowhere in sight. He looked back at his table. He had left his bag on the floor directly beside his chair in his haste to purchase another coffee, so there was no way the man couldn't have known somebody was already sitting at that table. Ishimaru was utterly confused at the man's desire to just... sit there. 

Ishimaru felt his heart pounding against his chest faster and faster with every passing moment. This was his golden opportunity. He had wanted to befriend the man, the ideal person, ever since Ishimaru had first seen him in this coffee shop a few months back. From the moment he heard the first round of jovial laughter from the trio, he had wanted to talk to the man, get to know him, and maybe... maybe even-

Maybe even become friends with him.

Refusing to believe that any other  ~~inappropriate~~ thought had crossed his mind, he straightened with determination. He was going to go reclaim his table and start a conversation with the man he had noticed all this time. He gripped the cup in his hand tightly and started to march back to his seat. He managed to fall back into his chair without shattering his determination, and he was miraculously still brimming with confidence.

He opted for a simple conversation starter. "Hello there."

The man glanced upwards. "...Hey," he grunted.

The student toyed with the coffee cup between his hands nervously. "I have seen you around this coffee shop numerous times," he remarked, "but despite knowing your face, I have yet to know your name."

The man blinked at Ishimaru and opened and closed his mouth idly as if he were searching for something to say. His tan cheeks seemed to darken, and Ishimaru wasn't sure if he was blushing or if it was a trick of the lighting. Now that they were this close to each other, Ishimaru noted that the man's eyes were a lilac in colour, and that they were lined with black eyeliner. It was odd, but Ishimaru welcomed oddity, for it reassured him that he was not the only odd one in the world. 

"...Oowada."

"Eh?"

"My name. It's Oowada Mondo," the man stated matter-of-factly.

Ishimaru beamed. At last, he finally knew his role model's name after so long!

"Um..." Oowada fidgeted. "What's yers...?"

"How rude of me! I'm Ishimaru Kiyotaka," he responded, still smiling.

"Sweet." Suddenly, Oowada's eyes widened, and his back straightened as he began to stammer, "I-I-I MEAN-! U-Um... n-nice ta meet ya."

"It is nice to meet you too, Oowada-kun." The man flinched at the sound of the honorific, and Ishimaru could swear that he was definitely blushing this time. Ishimaru stopped himself from giggling by taking a sip of his green tea latte. Oowada's superior height loomed over many and his physical look was quite menacing, but he actually got flustered so easily! The way Oowada's usual glaring or laughing appearances quickly transitioned into blushing faces of sheer panic and stuttering messes when he became nervous was endearing to Ishimaru. It was a blessing to him, in ways he'd never quite understand, to see that others also found difficulties being smooth or social.

Ishimaru sensed that the conversation was stalling to a halt, and Oowada's eyes were darting over to the door, and that was  _not_ a good sign. He frantically grasped for anything,  _anything,_ to mention or talk about.

He blurted out, "Oowada Mondo... That's a truly magnificent name! You must thank your parents for naming you so splendidly!" As soon as the words left his mouth, he wanted to hit himself on the head with a hammer. He was acting like the naïve hall monitor he had been in high school! He couldn't believe he had said such  _stupid_ things to a stranger - to a man he admired and certainly didn't need to scar away with his excessive and unwanted blabbering-

"Yeah, I agree."

Ishimaru knit his eyebrows together in confusion. Had the man just... concurred with him? He had! Oowada didn't think Ishimaru was the weirdest person ever! Ishimaru adjusted his black beanie, and with renewed confidence, pressed on.

"Were you aware that 'Mondo' means 'world' in a variety of foreign languages, such as Italian, Esperanto, Ido, and Istriot?"

Oowada replied, "Huh... no, didn't know the last three were languages; never fuckin' heard of 'em before. I don't really think my name's worth meaning 'world', I just like it 'cause my older bro's name was Daiya, so together we were the Daiyamondo Brothers."

"Ah, diamond!" Ishimaru piped. "That's quite remarkable. Your parents were very creative."

"Heh, thanks. Uh, so, what've ya got there?" He pointed to the coffee cup in Ishimaru's hands.

"Huh? O-Oh, simply a green tea latte." Had Oowada just attempted to divert from the subject of his family?

"Green tea latte?" Oowada said, "Man, you sure drink fuckin' fancy stuff, unlike me, I always drink mine black."

Ishimaru frowned. "Please watch your language!"

Oowada scowled back. "K, whatever, man."

Ishimaru screamed internally. This was not the time to be bringing in his petty public morals and disciplinary tendencies! Must he always scare away his conversation partners with his detestable personality? Why couldn't he just be a normal sociable person?

He attempted to salvage the conversation. "A-Ah, I mean, please do not misunderstand! I do not usually indulge in drinks such as these. I usually drink my coffees black, like you, I was merely craving a little something sweet today. In fact, I had a hazelnut latte just now, too."

"W-Whaa?" Oowada raised his thin eyebrows in surprise. "Two sweet drinks in one day? Are you that tired?"

"Admittedly, school is becoming immensely hectic these days."

"School? You're a student?"

"Ah, yes," Ishimaru said clinically, "I'm a fourth year student at the University of Tokyo."

Oowada's jaw hung open in shock. "You're a T-Uni student?! Holy shit, that's the #1 school in all of Japan!" He leaned forward onto the table, his interest clearly peaked. "What d'ya study there? Gender Studies? Fine Arts? Journalism?"

Ishimaru gaped at the man in horror. "Absolutely not! No, just... no! I got a Major Entrance Scholarship in Political Science! I'm also minoring in Economics! Wha... gender studies? Art? J-Lis?! How did you formulate such preposterous suggestions?!"

"Ya got a  _Major Entrance Scholarship_ to T-Uni?! Holy fuck. And... well... you just... seem like the type to have a stereotypical hipster major." _  
_

Ah.

There it was.

People always mentioned his hipster appearance at one point in their talks, especially on the subject of his studies in political science and economics. 

Partway through his first year of university, Ishimaru changed drastically to become the hipster he was now. He used the leftover money he had from the numerable scholarships awarded to him to acquire a completely new wardrobe, but he still was never good enough. He was in his final year of school now, and he still had yet to make a friend. People looked with disgust at the array of jewelry on his skin and at his clothing. They talked behind his back about how he looked too much like "one of those annoying stereotypical hipsters." They sneered at him, taunting him that he could never get a job with all his piercings, that his looks contrasted too much with his big dreams of becoming prime minister, and that he might as well quit trying now, since he was such a "fucking annoying good-for-nothing hipster."

"Y'know... seriously..." Oowada murmured, "you seriously look like a hipster, 'specially with all those piercings. Actually, didn't it hurt to get all those?"

"No," Ishimaru responded flatly. A dark cloud enshrouded his view of Oowada, and it wouldn't clear no matter how much he adjusted his glasses. He dejectedly lowered his eyes. He knew where this was going. He had encountered this route of conversation too many times before. 

_Lip, eyebrow, tongue, and **four** ear piercings? Ahaha... ahahah! You're such a hipster, makes me wanna rip those piercings right out._

"And that beanie and thick black glasses combo... man! It's just so fuckin' hipster!"

_You're so fuckin' hipster, you loser. You have the whole look down. Beanie, glasses..._

"And shit, dude, your whole outfit fuckin' SCREAMS 'hipster'. Plaid jackets, combat boots, and leather fingerless gloves? 

_Plaid, boots, and... oh my God, leather fingerless gloves?_

Ishimaru became increasingly depressed at every word, at every resurfacing memory.

"I ain't kiddin', you got the look down on pat."

_You got the look down on pat!_

"In all honesty, your look..."

_In all honesty, your look is a shitty eyesore. _You're such a fucking annoying good-for-nothing hipster.__

"Your look... you pull it off really well; you're really fuckin' hot."

Ishimaru snapped back to attention in bewilderment. Had Oowada just called him... attractive?

Oowada's whole face turned bright red. "Sh-sh-sh-SHIT! N-No... I MEAN... I DIDN'T MEAN YOU'RE NOT HOT! WELL... y-yes-F-FUCK!"

"Calm down, Oowada-kun!" Ishimaru pleaded, "You... you think I'm... 'hot'?"

"I... I UH... uh... y-yeah..." Oowada muttered, "I... I-I've always s-secretly a-ADMIRED YA! AND I... I... always w-wanted t' talk t'ya..."

Ishimaru stared at the man in awe. Oowada had wanted to talk to _him?_ Oowada Mondo, the man he admired, admired  _him?_

"Y-You're always in this coffee shop whenever my friends an' I come to dick around, a-and you were always sitting alone... a-and... I-! I TH-THINK YOU'RE FUCKIN' HOT, DAMNIT!" He yelled, attracting the attention of the other customers in the café. "Y-YOU... YOU LOOK FUCKIN' C-CUTE WITH ALL THOSE PIERCINGS AND THOSE STUPID SEXY GLASSES A-AND... F-FUCK! And now that I know you're FUCKIN' genius T-uni scholarship student that's e-easy as hell t' talk to... I-I just like you that much more... MOTHERFUCKER! I-I sound s-so CREEPY, DON'T I?! I... SHIT!"

Ishimaru shook his head. "No, Oowada-kun! You're being so kind! I..." He was overcome with emotion, and tears started to form in his eyes.

Oowada shot up from his chair. "Are you... you're CRYING?!" He screeched, "SHIT! I'm so fucking sorry! I'm scarin' ya, ain't I? Fuck fuck fuck FUCK! I shout when I get nervous around cute- GOD FUCKING DAMNIT."

He bolted past Ishimaru, but the latter was so lost in thought and disbelief that it was only when the brass bell rang in warning that he registered that Oowada had just left. Oh no... the man he had been unknowingly chasing after was leaving! And he'd likely never come back to the coffee shop from mortification and embarrassment! Panicked, he fanatically swiped his backpack from the floor and sprinted after the man, abandoning his coffee in the process. He reached the parking lot just as Oowada was about to mount a sleek motorcycle.

"Oowada-kun!" Ishimaru bellowed, "Oowada-kun, WAIT!" Oowada froze in place upon seeing the hipster running towards him.

Ishimaru slowed to a halt as he reached Oowada. "Oowada-kun! You said you've always wanted to talk to me!"

A strangled sound came from Oowada's throat. Then, he nodded.

"Well, I reciprocate those feelings! I have always wanted to talk to you, as well!"

"Seriously?" Oowada commented, "You have?"

"Of course, Oowada-kun!" Ishimaru declared, "I have... I have always noticed you, ever since I first saw you with your friends. You are extremely sociable and amiable while I am socially awkward and fervently disliked... I have also secretly admired you all this time! I wanted to be able to talk to you and... and become your friend! And that is why I feel like we should both complete our tasks of talking to one another! Please meet me in this café at a later time so we can do so!"

Oowada's jaw dropped at the confession. His eyes flitted to the side, and he rubbed the back of his neck in nervousness. "I..." he said shakily, "I have work every weekday, so... are you fine with meeting tomorrow evenin'?"

"Y-Yes! I believe I am free."

"Great. Lookin' forward to it."

Ishimaru smiled. "You're very sweet, Oowada-kun."

"Good. You did say you wanted a little something sweet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet this, sweet that, a little something sweet everywhere!  
> I actually really hate this fic lmao


	2. [Side Chapter] Super University Level Wingman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fujisaki Chihiro is sick and tired of seeing Oowada always staring longingly at the attractive hipster in the coffee shop without ever making a move. So he decides to do something about lover boy and set him up with his equally lovesick crush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A silly little side chapter featuring Oowada's ultimate wingmen: Fujisaki and Yukimaru.

Fujisaki Chihiro had just connected to the coffee shop's internet on his laptop when he looked up from his screen to notice that Oowada Mondo was looking straight ahead with a dazed expression on his face. The programmer turned slightly to follow Oowada's line of sight and saw that he was staring at the hipster sitting alone at the table in front of theirs. Again.

Fujisaki vaguely recognized the hipster. That man was always here in the coffee shop whenever he, Oowada, and Yukimaru came here to hang out, and he was always seated in the exact same place. Obviously, he was a regular... at a lesser known coffee shop... He... He was  _so hipster_! And yet, for some reason, Oowada was head over heels for the guy.

"Hey, Takemichi," Fujisaki said, "You're gay, right? W-What do you think about the hipster over there?" He cocked his head towards the man in question for added emphasis.

Yukimaru looked over his shoulder at the hipster, then hummed in approval. "He's pree good-lookin'." Fujisaki glanced at Oowada and saw that the latter was glaring at Yukimaru, his face scrunched up in anger. The programmer smiled coyly. His suspicions were confirmed.

"Hey uh, Mondo? I think it's about time you told us the truth."

"H-Hah? W-What're ya talkin' about?" stuttered Oowada.

Exasperated, Fujisaki ran a hand through his unruly golden brown hair. He sighed. "P-Please stop denying it and just admit that you have the hots for the hipster already."

Oowada slammed his hands onto the table and abruptly stood up from his seat. He was breathing heavily and staring daggers at Fujisaki, until he realized how much of a commotion he had just made. Fujisaki could literally see the moment Oowada became all too aware of the attention he had attracted, and Oowada turned to see if the hipster had noticed. The hipster certainly had noticed, so the two of them locked eyes - lilac clashed with scarlet - and when Oowada had turned away, he was blushing. But the most interesting part of all that was the other man's reaction. The hipster's gaze had lingered on Oowada even after the eye contact had been broken, and after that, his head had lowered slowly to face his cup of coffee, like he was confused, like he was... flustered.

He and Yukimaru roared with laughter once more until they saw Oowada's eyes flicker to the direction of the exit. The two of them knew what that meant: Oowada was planning his escape route out of the coffee shop. To prevent that from happening, Yukimaru retrieved the fallen chair and Fujisaki calmed Oowada down, coaxing him to sit back down. 

"Hey, c'mon. Calm down, man."

"Fuck you, Takemichi."

"M-My suspicions have been confirmed," snickered Fujisaki, "You totally like that guy!"

"What? No, that's fuckin' gross. I like girls. I'm not gay. That's-"

Yukimaru shot him a dangerous look. Oowada swallowed nervously. In his panicked state, he had forgotten that one of his closest friends was homosexual.

"I mean... shit, look, guys. I just... I don't know. I... I feel something,  _something_ around that g-g-guy, but... I don't know  _what_ I'm feeling. I want to see him, I get happy when I see him at this coffee shop, and I guess I like seein' him an' all, but at th' same time, the sight and the thought of 'im makes me feel, makes me, uh, feel gross."

"What." Fujisaki and Yukimaru deadpanned in unison.

"I, fuck, I just," Oowada stammered, "I get all flustered around him, but at the same time my chest... my chest, it... tightens up and fuckin' HURTS an' my head gets all dizzy and shit! That sounds pretty gross, huh? An' I know I'm not gay; I like chicks! Yeah, cute chicks, with nice bodies and spiky black hair and big n' bright red eyes and F-F-FUCK! FUCK!"

"Oh, we know exactly what yer talkin' about," Yukimaru commented.

"R-Really? Thank fuckin' GOD! I don't even know what I feel around that guy-"

"Yer totally infatuated with the hipster an' ya wanna know him more. It's that simple."

Oowada's face flooded with colour. "W...W-W-WHAT?!"

Fujisaki nodded. "Yup. You have to admit it, it's so obvious! You're overly conscious of him, right?"

"W-Well... I th-think so..."

"You wanna know more about him, yeah?"

"K-Kinda-"

"Then you're crushing on him. _Hardcore._ "

"What?! I... NO! Th... That can't be it! Fuck no, SHIT NO-!"

"Oh no, Takemichi, just look at the time!" Fujisaki declared, "We're late for class!"

Yukimaru blinked. "We don't ha-"

Fujisaki shot him a glare.

"O-O-Oh... I mean, uh, yeah! Gotta learn m'self all about computer science, y'know!" He and Fujisaki rushed to pack up their stuff. "See ya, Mondo!"

"W-What?! WHAT? WHAT THE FUCK? HEY, GET BACK HERE!"

Fujisaki and Yukimaru ignored their friend's cries and scampered out of the cafe. Oowada stared at their retreating figures in indignation, mentally flipping the bird at the two assholes, the two sons of bitches, the two-

"Um... excuse me?"

He turned to look at a woman who was accompanied by, whom Oowada assumed to be, her husband and two children.

The woman said, "We... we'd like to sit at this cafe, but there are no tables for four left, and we were wondering if you were leaving soon?"

"Uh, y-yeah, I... I'm actually leavin' now, take it," he stammered, standing up to vacate the table.

After expressing their gratitude, the family seated themselves at his squad's usual spot. He sighed and turned to leave when he saw the hipster leaving his table to order a drink. Oowada looked at the empty table with wide eyes, then at the hipster, then at the empty chair across from the hipster's seat. It practically beckoned for him to join the hipster at his table. Oowada took a deep breath, then walked towards the table. It was now or never.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day? I wish I could write that fast for "The Greatest First Love"...


End file.
